By The Book
by KayValo87
Summary: When the Winchesters cross paths with a vengeful witch they expect trouble ... but not THIS!


Okay, so I KNOW I still have a lot of active stories, but I just found out that it is my good friend's birthday. Since I am broke and she is a Supernatural fan, this is the best thing I could think of to give her.

**(: HAPPY BIRTHDAY CASSIE! :)**

Anyway, don't worry about my other stories. I will post the next chapter of "Nunquam Indulgeo, Nunquam Alieno" tonight, as well as one or two other updates. (This is one good thing about not having a job.)

Until then, enjoy ...

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own them, I never have owned them, and I never will own them ... but it is still nice to dream. :)

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Chapter 1**

Dean struggled against the coarse rope that coiled around his wrists, but the knots held fast. How does he get himself into these things? One minute he was flirting with the waitress at the diner while he waits for his food and the next he was tied to the support beam of an abandoned house, watching the same waitress prepare for who knows what kind of ritual. He should have seen it coming. How many twenty somethings have violet eyes and long silver hair? Sam was never going to let him live this down. Dean knew he would come for him, just like he would always be there for Sam. He just had to give geek boy enough time to figure out what happened and track him down … but that didn't stop Dean from fighting back for all he was worth. He was never very good at playing the part of the damsel in distress.

"Shh," she said in a soothing voice, stuffing a bandana into his mouth, "calm down. It will all be over soon."

He glared at her, as she secured it with a strip of duct tape. Guess she was a strong believer in overkill.

"Can't have you warning the tainted one, now can I?"

Dean could feel his heart beat starting to race and he fought to keep himself calm. Maybe she had just heard about Sam through the grape vine or eye of newt vine or whatever gossip chain witches had … not that he liked the idea of fuglies talking about his brother, but it was a lot better then the alternative. She turned and walked away, the skirt on her long black dress swishing as she moved, and picked up a long silver knife that lay on the alter across the room.

"If it makes you feel any better hunter," she shot him a wicked smile over her shoulder, "I have no problem letting you live … I mean … someone has to bury your brother."

Lunging at her, Dean yanked and pulled against his bindings, muffled curses mixing in with her laughter. No wonder it had been so easy to find her. She wanted them to … she wanted Sam. Well, that was just NOT going to happen. He had to get out before-

"Did you hear that?" She whispered excitedly.

Cold fear took hold of him. He would recognize that sound anywhere. It was the rumble of a 1967 Chevy Impala. Sam had found him.

"Now, be good hunter." She said sweetly, as if he was a toddle that she was bribing with a cookie. "I really don't want to have to kill you too."

Like h&%^! Dean fought the ropes with all his might. Blood ran down his fingers, but he didn't care. He had to get out, had to warn Sam. If this b^&$# so much as laid a hand on him …

"Dean."

His head snapped up at his brother's call and he desperately tried to tell him to run. He didn't care what happened to him, but he couldn't let her get his brother.

"It's okay Dean," Sam whispered, looking around the seemingly empty room and pulling out his knife. "I'll get you out."

"_No, get out of here!"_ Dean tried to yell. _"It's a trap!"_

Just as e felt the first of the ropes starting to give way the b^%&# made her move. Stepping from the shadows, she gave Dean a wink and raised a blow gun.

"_NO!"_

But his muffled cry did nothing as the dart met it's mark. Grabbing his neck, Sam pulled the small object out of his neck before crumpling to the floor.

"Well, that was easy." She said happily, setting her weapon aside and heading for the fallen hunter.

Pulling out a small curved knife, she ran the blade across his chest. Dean strained against the ropes, desperate to protect his brother from whatever this psycho had in store for him.

"Calm down." She muttered, rolling her eyes. "I'm just getting a sample."

Walking back over to the alter, she placed the blade in a bowl, added a few things, and started to chant. Dean however, kept his focus on the limp form on the floor. The cut didn't look to serious, may not even need stitches, but it was still bleeding far more then he would have liked.

"Excellent." The witch stated, moving away from the alter. "Looks like I found the perfect sacrifice."

She walked over and patted Dean's cheek fondly.

"And I couldn't have done it without your help. Thank you so much."

Turning her attention to Sam, she reached down to lift the massive hunter. Straining, the witch managed to drag him across the room, where she had been smart enough to set up on the floor. D^%& it, he didn't have much time. If he didn't free himself soon, he was going to be an only child.

"Watch closely," She called out, lifting the long knife from before, "you don't want to miss his final moments."

As the blade raised over Sam's venerable form, as surge of adrenalin flowed through Dean and he snapped the weakened rope, tackling the witch to the ground. He pounded his fist into her face over and over until she went limp, and then he shoved the knife into his chest. Ripping off the gag and bloodied ropes, Dean turned back to where his brother was lay motionless on the floor.

"Sam?" He gently shook his shoulder. "Sammy?"

When there was no response, Dean lifted him into a fireman's carry and headed out to the car. He never was good and playing a damsel in distress, but he had perfected the role of hero. Now all he had to do was get back to the hotel, patch up Sam and hope that whatever she did to him would wear off soon.

**Gasping in a lungful of air, Gertrude looked down at the knife sticking out of her chest. Good thing she had already charmed the blade so it would not kill her, but he had ruined her favorite dress. Pulling it out she looked around. D^%&$ it! The tainted one was gone, and so was his brother. Not that she had cared much about what happened to the brother before, but getting stabbed tends to change a persons mind. She was going to make him pay for what he did, and she would have her sacrifice. The only question was, how to do it.**

"**Oh look," she breathed, smiling at the blood soaked rope fragments. "they left me a present."**

**Taking the pieces back to the alter, she set them aside with the blade she had used to test the tainted one.**

"**These will do nicely," Gertrude said to herself, selecting a blank book from her shelf, "and soon you will learn, hunters, the pen is far mightier then the sword."**

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**So, what do you think?

(BTW, the last part is meant to be in bold letters. I'll explain why in the next chapter.)


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